


The Token of a Smith's Appreciation

by AlterEgon



Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 12:48:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5457050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlterEgon/pseuds/AlterEgon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year or two after the events of The Will of the Empress, one of Daja's customers turns out to be of special interest to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Token of a Smith's Appreciation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alianne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alianne/gifts).



> Dear Alianne,  
> Daja's my favorite of the four, so as your optional details stated you did not care which one of them I wrote about, I ended up picking her. I hope you enjoy this little story, and wish you a very happy Yuletide.

Daja looked up from her work when the door opened, though her hands never ceased to move. Through her magic, she felt the wire she was shaping with small pliers even though her eyes were focused elsewhere. It took more than a visitor to the forge to distract her from her work enough to spoil it.

Even when the visitor was not who she had secretly hoped for.

"Lady Trisana will have my head if she comes back and I let you starve," the maid informed her mistress as she put down a tray with food in a free spot on one of the worktables.

Was she imagining it, or had the girl actually been practicing Tris' scowl? Daja allowed herself a lopsided grin while she twisted a piece of fine gold wire into the perfect shape to hold the magic she was going to infuse the piece with. Jewelry with certain spells in it had become a fashion in town recently.

She didn't mind. It kept her busy, and it allowed her to produce pretty pieces. It wasn't that she minded her usual work.

The more solid and down-to-earth smithcraft that made up most of her orders was good work, comfortable in its familiarity and leaving behind the satisfaction of knowing that her work would be put to use. No one appreciated a well-crafted tool more than the man or woman who would actually wield it, and none of her customers had ever found the goods they received wanting.

The living-metal pieces she produced were intriguing, each of them unique, always a challenge, often a puzzle. They challenged her professional skills, her magic and her mind all at once.

The creation of delicate brooches and pins was not something she had dedicated a lot of time to throughout most of her career, though, and it catered to that creative part of herself that wanted to produce that which was not only functional but also pretty.

"I'll eat when I'm done with this," she promised. "Thank you." Then, as an afterthought, she added: "Why did you go all the way through the front door, though?"

The maid covered her mouth with one hand briefly, but her eyes were sparkling. "Because _someone_ locked that door."

Daja's brows came together in a frown. 'That door'… the one that connected her workshop directly to the living portion of the building.

The dark expression on her face was replaced by a sheepish smile when she realized that yes, indeed, she had thrown the bolt when she'd come in, thinking about a customer she expected to call unexpectedly that day and the inconvenience of her brother barging through that door with some request or another right then.

Really, you'd never think how many things out of a forge a gardener could find uses for.

It wasn't that she minded Briar visiting her workshop. It was just that sometimes she felt more confident when there wasn't a handsome young man around. Even when she had no reason at all to assume that that handsome young man would be a distraction to anyone in the room, and every reason to be confident that he wouldn't deliberately interfere.

Well, she was sure that it hadn't remained unnoticed that _something_ was going on now. Tris had trained the servants too well to rattle a barred door – with varying numbers of mages in the house, there usually was a good reason for it, and it did not do to break the focus of the person in the room – but the mere fact that the maid had come around to the front door of her workshop suggested that she had known that sophisticated mage-work was not the reason for the blocked passage.

"I'll drop off the tray in the kitchen when I go back upstairs," Daja said, swallowing the explanation that lay on her tongue. Any word said in that direction would only dig her in deeper when she had reason to suspect that not only her siblings knew more than they let on. If there was anything she wanted less than Briar coming over at an inconvenient moment, it was the maid picking that moment to pick up the tray again – no matter which door she came through.

Daja finished her design and put the piece aside to take care of the food. She really was hungry, come to think of it.

The moment she relaxed her magic, she felt a tap at the back of her mind – not a knock or prodding, demanding to be let in, but just a presence telling her that her sister had something to say whenever it was convenient for her to listen.

 _Did you need me?_ She asked though their bond, though she knew that if need had been involved, she would have noticed it even through her work.

Sandry's reply was instantaneous. _Uncle sends invitations for dinner._

That was a common enough occurrence. _And that's why you're lurking like a cat waiting to pounce the moment I take a break?_ Daja's mind-voice conveyed her amusement. _I think not._

 _Have you seen her again?_ Sandry sounded not the last bit embarrassed to be caught out.

Daja tried for a mental scowl. Asking which "she" Sandry meant would be no good. They both knew that there was only one candidate. _Not since she collected the order._

Which, truth be told, had been yesterday.

_Did you do what Briar suggested?_

The scowl deepened. _How do you know what Briar suggested?_ The answer was obvious of course, but she didn't particularly care to answer that question right this moment.

Sandry giggled in Daja's mind. _He's my brother, too, you know._ _So, did you?_

 _No!_ Came her reply, maybe a little too quickly, a little too determined.

Her sister wasn't fooled. They couldn't lie to each other through their magical bond, as Daja well knew. Well, there'd been some small hope that Sandry would have taken the hint and pretended to believe. _You did, didn't you? Oh, you'll have to tell us all about it tonight! I do need to hear something nice._

Daja's lips twitched. Most young nobles would have been overjoyed to hear that they were scheduled to be confirmed as the heir to an entire realm, preferred over the current ruler's own son. Sandry certainly deserved the position. She'd helped her uncle rule the country for years now, and it had been an open secret that Duke Vedris was planning to instate her as his heir – one that Sandry herself had stalwartly refused to believe until it had happened.

Contrary to what one might expect, she had been a certain degree of grumpy since then, as she tended to when she felt insecure about a situation. She certainly could use a distraction, but did Daja have to be the one to provide it?

 _I need to get back to work_ , she sent, finishing up the last of her meal. _We'll talk later._

She closed off most of their connection, like a door just leaning against the frame without latching. 'I'm busy now and shouldn't be disturbed,' that door said, 'but if you're in need, you can come in.'

For a moment, she considered mentally smacking Briar for talking to Sandry, but decided to let it go. Their brother was working on his _shakkans_ – that much she could feel even through _his_ almost-closed door – and the miniature trees certainly did not deserve being potentially nicked in the wrong place because their caretaker twitched suddenly.

Tris, at least, would not try to interfere with this matter. She surely was too busy with her studies at Lightsbridge to even have noticed what was going on back at home. The last she'd heard, Tris had found the challenge of studying academic magic quite enjoyable, the company at times frustrating. Daja briefly visited their connection, not surprised to find it in the same state of comfortable silence as the other two were now.

Well, maybe a little, given that it was Tris. It was at least as likely to find it unapproachable because her weather-witch sister was playing with lightning again.

 _I do not play with lightning here_ , came the tart reply. It appeared that Tris was paying more attention to their bond than Daja had given her credit for. _There is a reason I am not studying under my own name. Good luck, though._

Well, it seemed their bond was not the only thing that Tris had been paying more attention than Daja had given her credit for.

Daja silently grinned to herself over the meddling, nosy lot that were her siblings as she returned to her work. Annoying they might be at times, but she wouldn't have them any other way.

*

"Excuse me?"

Someone coming in unexpectedly with food did not distract Daja enough to mess up her work.

Someone standing at the door half-expectedly and speaking to her, though, apparently did.

At the sound of the voice, her focus frayed just enough to cause her to over-bend the wire she held in her tool, and she suppressed a string of expletives. There went the work of the last hour, but she didn't want the first thing her visitor heard from her mouth today to be proof of how many languages she could curse in. Few people other than Briar would consider _that_ an achievement worth showing off.

"Come in," she said instead, setting the piece she'd been working on aside to melt it in again later. When magic was involved, fixing mistakes once made often meant inviting trouble later. Better to start over entirely.

The woman who entered the forge moved with more confidence than her cautious first words had suggested.

Daja's smile was a shade brighter than her normal professional face for well-paying customers, though she took care not to appear eager. There always was a risk that her interpretation of signs and hints had been incorrect, borne of wishful thinking rather than fact, and she was going to be in for an unpleasant surprise now.

Seeing that her visitor's dress was unadorned did nothing to alleviate those fears.

"Was yesterday's delivery alright?" she asked, her voice as neutral as she could make it now.

"It was, as always, outstanding," the woman said. "I would even call it extraordinary."

Daja allowed the smile to return to her face. That was easy. The woman before her was a regular customer – or her family was, in any case. It was her brother who ran the family business, but she had taken over placing and collecting the orders a while ago.

It had taken several weeks before Daja had been ready to admit to herself that it was not the woman's golden hair alone that made the forge seem brighter whenever she entered.

After Rizu, it had taken a while before she had even been ready to look at another woman with anything akin to appreciation again; longer before she had been willing to admit to any kind of interest.

When the realization had hit, it had been too late to quell the feeling, as she had found, especially as the target of her interest appeared to go out of her way to create reasons to come to the forge. Her name was Mari Keyes and her family in the business long enough to send her on purpose if they suspected that Daja would be more lenient in her pricing towards her.

Briar, still sharing her home, though once the sibling who was the most remote from her, the one with whom she had last reforged her bond, had been the first to get the truth of the matter from her. Without being asked, he had kept his eyes and ears open, eventually informing her that at least if she was rejected it was not going to be because Mari reserved her interests for men. Quite the opposite, he assured her.

Still, Daja hesitated to bring the subject up. How did you even go about such a thing? With Rizu it had just happened, their friendship turning to something more in the course of a conversation that had somehow ended in kisses.

Again, it had been Briar who had given her suggestions. Initially refusing them vocally, she had been determined to just broach the matter the next time Mari came to place or collect an order.

Several purely professional encounters later, Daja had given in, and resorted to one of her brother's suggestions, still not sure that it was particularly good, but failing to come up with something better.

"It was rather more than I expected, even," Mari continued. Her hand went into the pocket of her overdress – good work, Daja noted, fine cloth with just enough tasteful embroidery to give it a hint of elegance, but nowhere near the quality that Sandry produced. It was possible that the comparison wasn't fair. Sandry was a powerful stitch-witch after all, and her work quite unique.

Withdrawing her hand again, the woman brought out a small parcel, neatly wrapped in silk, and put it down on the counter. "I believe this slipped into the package by accident."

Daja's heart sank. If she was returning it, that was as good a rejection as any.

"Not by accident," she heard herself say. She didn't, couldn't look up at the other woman's face now, so her eyes remained focused on the hand still poised over the little cloth bundle.

"We did not pay for it."

Daja was about ready to mentally strangle Briar for putting that silly idea in her mind to begin with. "It was meant as a gift."

"A token of a smith's appreciation?" Mari asked, quoting the note Daja had wrapped the object in.

She nodded, mutely. "I thought – you were here so often – If I misunderstood, I apologize." That did not sound at all the way she'd wanted it to in her ears. She wasn't sure what way she had wanted it to sound, but she knew for certain that this wasn't it.

She heard the other woman take in a deep breath, saw the hand drop down and close around the silk again.

"You didn't misunderstand," she said. "I wasn't – You could have said something."

So could you, Daja thought, though not unkindly. She knew why she hadn't. "That would not have been very professional," she said. "You were a customer."

"I have not brought an order today."

Daja followed Mari's hand as she lifted the package again and started to fold the silk apart slowly, revealing a pin crafted of bright metal, fine work but not inappropriately gaudy or ridiculously expensive for a woman from a merchant family.

"Mari Keyes," Daja said, after a steadying breath of her own. "My siblings and I are dining with my sister's uncle tonight. Would you care to join me? Our friends are always welcome."

Maybe it wasn't entirely fair not to define the uncle in more detail, but there were still a few hours between now and then to clarify. For the moment, all she wanted was to hear a 'yes'.

The pin was lifted from its silk bed and turned around to be carefully fastened to the woman's dress. Daja was pleased to see her choice in shape and color had been as close to perfect as she could come.

"I would love to," Mari confirmed, the words causing Daja's heart to skip a beat. "Your _sister's_ uncle, though?"

"Long story," Daja said, grinning. "I can tell you all about it if you don't mind watching me at work."

"Mind?" Mari dropped onto the stool Daja indicated. "I've been hoping for a chance for… a good long while."

Daja took up a new piece of started jewelry and a roll of the thinnest copper wire she had. "Then here's your first chance." Hopefully not the last, though. "As for my sister's uncle, it's like this…"


End file.
